


I Fall in Love with You Every Day

by hellostarlight20



Series: Ten/Rose [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Nine's regeneration, Regeneration, Romance, Telepathy, UA, changing timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9818375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: In love with her Doctor, and he with her, Rose can't imagine anything ever changing. Until they meet the Daleks and everything changes including her Doctor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naturalblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturalblues/gifts).



> Title from the Frank Sinatra song of the same name  
> Recognizable dialogue from appropriate episodes
> 
> For @natural--blues who wanted Nine x Rose in a committed relationship with full on confession of their love (no oh, you know rubbish) when Nine regenerated into Ten. Also Rose remembers Bad Wolf and feels as if she killed her Doctor. The following story follows canon only in the loosest sense.
> 
> Thank [Mrs.Bertucci](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbertucci/pseuds/mrsbertucci) for the beta!

The first time they shared a bed, in a purely platonic way, was the night after the Doctor ordered Rickey the Idiot to blow up Downing Street.

With Rose still inside.

His own life didn’t matter, never had; though he would mourn the life of Harriet Jones, and whoever was left in the area, it physically hurt that Rose was there. That she hadn’t left, couldn’t leave, and despite her absolute faith and trust in him, he wanted her anywhere but there when that missile hit.

“I can’t believe aliens pretended to crash on Earth when they were already always here intending to blow us up.” Rose leaned her head against his shoulder and he adjusted appropriately.

She let out a quiet sigh and he finally felt her unwind a little after the frantic events of the day. Neither want to leave the other after the Slitheen and the missile; Rose hadn’t wanted to be alone and he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone.

The Doctor shifted a bit, finally bringing his arm out from under her and around her shoulders. Rose hummed this time and cuddled deeper into his side. Her fingers curled against his left heart and he felt her body relax, finally.

“Just goes to show everyone’s out for a pound.” His fingers absently ran up and down her arm but he couldn’t be bothered to stop the movement. “Or whatever the Slitheen equivalent is. But it all worked out in the end.”

“Harriet was brilliant.” Rose’s voice lowered, slurred slightly as she fought sleep. The Doctor thought it was the most beautiful sound he ever heard.

“Yup!” He kept his voice appropriately low, but grinned at the memory. “Three successive terms as Prime Minister and the architect of Britain’s Golden Age.”

“I say she has her work cut out for her.”

The Doctor pressed his lips to the top of Rose’s head. “Go on, get to sleep.” Her fingers curled tighter into his jumper. “I’ll be here when you wake and we’ll go somewhere fantastic.”

 ********  
The first time they made love was after that blasted Dalek’s distress call. A Dalek distress call—what was the TARDIS thinking? The Doctor planned to have a little conversation with his beloved ship about Daleks and distress and how the two didn’t belong in the same sentence.

He might never know if it happened because of the stress of the day, the fact Rose was still alive, or if it was to ward off his own nightmares. It ended up being all three and that didn’t matter.

Because Rose was still alive, and he needed to remember he was as well. Or she needed to remind him.

Either way, he spent the night making her scream, worshiping her body as he had nothing else in his long, long lives. He learned what she liked, what she loved, what she begged him to do again. And Rose, his precious Rose, didn’t hesitate or shy away from exploring his body, his alien body.

The Doctor may have cried out and there was a strong possibility he begged. When Rose finally fell asleep in his arms, spent, sated, blissful, he allowed himself a moment’s comfort.

He also might’ve run from her room afterward.

What he felt for the precious, beautiful woman he left sleeping in her bed absolutely terrified him. And he might’ve avoided her for the better part of the next morning, afraid of his feelings for Rose and the line he crossed and the way she looked determinedly _fine_ that morning.

Of course she didn’t let him get away with that for long. Then again, he couldn’t keep it up for long. He tried leaving her with that fool Adam, but Rose, as always, gravitated to him. Or he did to her. Either way, they ended up riding the lift to the 500th floor together, hand-in-hand.

Once they dropped Adam off and once they cleared the air about that little snot, she laid into him for mixed messages. The Doctor didn’t make love to her that night, but he did lay with her until she fell asleep. And he held her throughout the night, tranquil in a way he never remembered feeling.

 ********  
The first time the Doctor told Rose Tyler he loved her, they were patching up their relationship after Reapers and Pete Tyler and mistakes and harshly spoken words.

They walked along a riverbank, far from the gathering crowd in town for a traditional market day. The planet was unimportant in the grand scheme and while Rose wanted to watch the acrobats fly—quite literally—through the air, she insisted on a peaceful walk, first.

He regaled her with stories of fishing in his younger years. With a fond smile and only a slight ache in his hearts, the Doctor told Rose about how one particular fishing expedition had been rudely interrupted by Romana’s kidnapping. The evil knight intent on marrying her and taking over the world never stood a chance.

After—after saving the townspeople from a crashing ship and helping the poor, diminutive PoiPri fix their hyperdrive and return to their trading routes and enjoying the festivities—they returned to the TARDIS.

He made love to her tenderly, melancholy from his memories, thankful for Rose, and grateful to have this second chance at life he hadn’t wanted after the Time War.

“I love you,” he whispered as he held her after.

Her breath caught and Rose jerked upright. She blinked down at him in the soft TARDIS light, a brilliant smile playing around her lips. “Yeah?” Her smile widened and her hands braced on his chest, one over each heart.

“Rose Tyler, how can you doubt that?” He shook his head, rustling the pillowcase. “I fall in love with you every day.”

She blinked and he swore he saw tears in her eyes. Panicked, the Doctor reached up, not sure if he needed to apologize or comfort her or what he was supposed to do.

“I love you too, my Doctor.” She kissed him softly and he tasted her tears, her love, her devotion.

 ********  
The first time he slipped his mind into hers wasn’t technically the first time.

“Skin on skin contact,” he said, lips brushing her belly. “I’m a touch telepath.”

“Knew you were a telepath,” Rose sighed, arching into his touch. “You said it that time after—” she shook her head and raked her fingers through his short hair. “Figured it was only with your own people.”

“I can, theoretically, forge a telepathic connection with any species.”

“Even us lowly humans?” Rose joked, opening her legs to better accommodate his body.

He nipped her hip but smiled, kissing lower. “Even you lot. But you, my Rose. You’re special.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Her sentence ended on a gasp and he grinned, pleased.

“I can feel you, my Rose.” He looked up and made sure she understood the depth of his commitment to her, his love for her, his desire for this telepathic bond between them. “Whenever we hold hands, I feel you.”

“You mean—but we’ve held hands since—we’ve _always_ held hands.” Despite her obvious desire, the quickness of her breathing and the pounding of her heart, Rose struggled onto her elbows. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean, feel me?”

“Surface emotions,” he assured her. “Those feelings someone who knows you well will be able to see or guess at because they do know you so well.” He kissed her, urging her back onto the bed so he could resume his rather pleasurable activities.

“Don’t you know me well enough?” Her hand cupped his cheek and she halted him, eyes dark and serious.

The Doctor caught her fingers and kissed the tips. “I do.” He cleared his throat and braced his arms on the bed, not wanting to mess this up. “But this is deeper. It’s—how do I put it? It’s like an added dimension.”

“Like the difference between a random one-night stand and making love with the man you love?”

All the breath left him in a rush and it didn’t matter he didn’t breathe like humans or his respiratory bypass should’ve prevented that. “Yeah.” His voice broke and he tried again. “Exactly like that, my Rose.”

She grinned at him, a brilliant smile that lightened his soul. “All right,” she said as calmly as if deciding on dessert. “Show me how.”

 ********  
The Doctor took Rose’s hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. She sighed and rolled into him, still half asleep. Wearing only his pants, he tugged up the soft blanket Rose preferred and shifted so he lay flat on their bed. She instantly curled into his side. He closed his eyes and let himself drift into a light doze.

With Rose’s hand in his, their telepathic connection opened enough for him to slip into her dreams.

“Kyoto?” he murmured into the dark, lips stretching into a smile.

“Hmm,” she sighed. “Love the cherry blossoms,” she mumbled.

“We’ll go there again,” he promised. Kissing the top of her head, he made no move to get up or jostle her from his chest. “See them bloom maybe in 2525. Lovely year, that.”

“Good.” Rose rubbed her head a little on his chest and sighed again. “Just us, yeah? I love Jack, but I want it to just be us.”

Her words burst warmly in the Doctor’s chest and he grinned widely. His hand tightened on hers and his other arm wrapped around her, pulling her more fully against him. “Yeah. Just us.”

“Good.” Rose slipped back into sleep again.

The Doctor knew she’d sleep for maybe thirty minutes more, not much longer. And he’d lay there with her, as he had every (relative) morning since the change in their relationship.

Now, drifting in and out of Rose’s memories of Kyoto and cherry blossoms, he knew he’d never change this for anything. He found his love, his salvation, his redemption in Rose Tyler and he planned on never letting her go.

“I fall in love with you every day, my Rose,” he whispered.

Even in sleep he felt-heard-sensed her response. “And I, you, my Doctor.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it looks like this is dialog straight from ‘Born Again’ but trust me, it’s not. I did say loosely based…

“Doctor?” Rose slowly blinked open her eyes. What was she doing on the TARDIS’s grating? The beautiful ship hummed in her head, a gentle, soothing sound of understanding and hope and determination.

The Doctor didn’t help her stand, which she found a bit odd considering, but Rose stumbled to her feet and leaned against the console for support. The Doctor stood just around from her, hands braced on a flat surface of the console, looking as sexily handsome as ever.

“My Rose.” He grinned, that small, smirking, half-smile and shook his head.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?” Her knees gave out and a dizzy spell washed over her. She tried to get to the Doctor, though she didn’t understand the urgency beating through her. “Something’s wrong—I can feel it. What happened? I don’t—” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead but it neither made her headache disappear nor did it make her memories clearer. “I don’t remember.”

“Rose Tyler.” His voice caressed her name as it usually did, but the inflection lacked the additional telepathic touch.

That lack worried her.

“I was going take you to so many places. Barcelona. Not the city Barcelona, the planet Barcelona. You’d love it!” And the way he said that, with his small smile and dancing eyes, told Rose exactly how much fun they’d have.

Not just exploring, but _together_. Getting lost in alleyways or long-abandoned secret tunnels. Running from the authorities or angry vendors. Kissing against the buildings or shagging in dark corners. Them. Always.

“Fantastic place,” he continued. “They’ve got dogs with no noses. Imagine how many times a day you end up telling that joke, and it’s still funny.”

She grinned at him but it felt off. Wrong. “Then, why can’t we go?”

The Doctor waved her off, but the movement was strained. “Maybe you will, and maybe I will. But not like this.”

“Doctor.” Her voice cracked. “What’s happening? Where’s Jack? What happened—the Daleks.” She remembered them, remembered—remembered him sending her away! “What happened with them? We were on the Game Station and then you locked me in the TARDIS.”

“I love you, my Rose. Remember that.” His blue-steel eyes met hers and Rose swore he saw clear to her soul. “I fall in love with you every day.”

Terrified, Rose stepped closer but stopped. He gave off _keep away_ waves and though their telepathic connection only worked when they touched, Rose knew him. _She knew him_. 

“You’re not making sense,” she whispered.

“I might never make sense again.” He tried to laugh but it was so strained her heart broke.

“Doctor—”

“I might have two heads or no head. Imagine me with no head! And don’t say that’s an improvement.”

“What are you—” she shook her head, torn between total confusion and chastising him for disparaging his looks (again)—“don’t say that about yourself.”

“But it’s a bit dodgy, this process. You never know what you’re going to end up with.”

“What process, Doctor what are you talking—”

He doubled over and his own terror, his fear for _her_ , hit Rose so clearly tears blurred her vision. She stumbled to his side, gripping the console for support, legs barely holding her upright.

“No, Rose! Stay away!”

He pushed her back and she fell against one of the coral struts. The TARDIS hummed in her brain, but Rose didn’t understand any of it. His arms curled around himself and light danced beneath his skin. But he looked at her, looked directly at her, and tried to smile.

“Doctor.” The words rushed from her lips. “Tell me what’s going on. What happened? Did the Daleks do something to you? Where’s Jack?”

“No, my Rose.” He shook his head, grimacing. “I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex and no one’s meant to do that. Every cell in my body’s dying.”

All her questions about how he absorbed the Time Vortex, when the hell he had the chance to even do that, and if no one was meant to do so why he thought it’d be a brilliant idea to start now died on her lips.

“Dying?” She may not have said that aloud. “What do you mean, _dying_? What the hell happened? I—I saved… _you_.”

Had she? Rose thought she remembered, it was there, just out of reach. But then she heard the soothing thrum of the TARDIS and let those memories go. For now.

He smiled at her; at least she thought he did. It may have been one of those telepathic caresses that fooled her. 

Oh, Rose.” He shook his head. “Time Lords have this little trick; it’s sort of a way of cheating death. Except it means I’m going to change and I’m not going to see you again. Not like this. Not with this daft old face.”

“What did I tell you about that?” she snapped, tears clogging her throat. “I love your face.” The tears she tightly held back fell. She didn’t bother to check them.

“You said not to make fun of my face.” His face softened and she crept closer. “Rose, my Rose.” He stopped and she knew he didn’t want her near him but as always he drew her to his side. “Remember that. Please. Remember how much I love you.”

“I fall in love with you every day,” she whispered.

“Before this me goes—I want you to remember that. My Rose. Forever.”

Rose had no idea what he meant. She never had the chance to ask. Not that him. The Doctor burst into flames, brilliant golden flames that blinded her. If any sound accompanied the fire, Rose couldn’t hear it over the sound of her heart breaking.

“Doctor?” She called, half turned away. “Doctor!”

She covered her eyes with her hand and peaked through her fingers. When she could see enough, she was already moving forward before she realized what happened. Well, no, she had no freakin’ clue what happened.

“Hello,” a stranger said. “Okay. Ooo, new teeth. That’s weird. So, where was I? Oh, that’s right. _Barcelona_.”

“What?” The word fell like a brick between them. “Who the hell are you?”

The strange man, tall, skinny, wild brown hair, wide smile, met her gaze and Rose thought—felt—but no. Even if he wore the Doctor’s clothes. He was not the Doctor. Not _her_ Doctor.

“What the hell just happened?” she demanded. “Who are you? Where’s the Doctor? What have you done with him?”

“Barcelona, yes.” The man grinned and nodded and she wanted to slap him but was frozen to the spot. “Six in the evening, Tuesday…October, I’d say. You’ll love the autumn there, well their version of it, Rose. How about 5006? Sure! On the way to Barcelona!”

He looked extremely pleased with himself. And he knew how to pilot the TARDIS. Who knew how to do that besides the Doctor? Well, besides him and Jack, and the little she knew about it. Rose wanted to ask him, but words died on her tongue, as dry as dust.

“Now then...what do I look like?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in a very non-Doctor way. She didn’t know what he meant or how to answer that.

“I don’t—” Rose shook her head. “You don’t know?”

She felt the tenuous connection she shared with the Doctor, it still burned brightly within her mind. She grasped it, held it tightly, but no matter how she tried, felt as if it slipped through her fingers.

“No, no no, no no no no no no no. No. Don’t tell me.”

“I don’t…” She shook her head again, at a loss for words. Or common sense. “Tell you what? How’d you get here?” Rose looked up at the cathedral ceiling. “Did you let him in here?”

The TARDIS, dear old girl that She was, only mournfully echoed in her head.

He—this man, this stranger—rambled about arms and legs and something about a mole. Then he winked at her. “You’ll have to tell me about the mole, Rose Tyler. Claim it as your own.”

Rose opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried again but with the same results. 

“Go on then, tell me.” He grinned and stood there clearly waiting. “What do you think?”

“Who the hell are you? Where’s my Doctor?” Her voice echoed in the console room but it felt as if she shouted into the abyss. “Send him back. I’m warning you; send the Doctor back right now!”

“Rose, it’s me.” He didn’t sound one damn bit like the Doctor but there was something there—the inflection, the way his voice caressed her name. And though his eyes were brown now, a beautiful deep brown, Rose swore she saw echoes of steel blue. “Honestly, it’s me.”

“Me?” She licked her lips and curled her fingers tighter on the console. “You? You can’t be…”

“I was dying. To save my own life I changed my body. Every single cell, but... I’m still me.”

“You said that. You said you were dying. How the hell can you change every cell in your body?”

He walked closer as if she were about to bolt—Rose didn’t know if she was or not, frozen to the grating in shock, she felt like running—and cautiously held out a hand. She didn’t take it. He frowned and dropped his hand to his side.

“Then how could I remember the very first word I ever said to you. Trapped in that cellar, surrounded by shop window dummies...oh…oh, such a long time ago. I took your hand and said _Run_.” He took her limp hand in his and squeezed.

She felt it then. Skin-on-skin contact opened their fledgling telepathic connection. Fledgling though it might be, feeling his hand in hers sent lightning through her. Rose gasped, her legs once more refusing to hold her weight.

He easily caught her, as if he knew she was about to fall. Or as if he sensed it. Held in his arms, one hand in hers, the other on the small of her back, she felt it. That warm, safe sensation of _Doctor_ and love and home.

“My Rose. I fall in love with you every day.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has landed...at Christmas, with Rose, and Rose had no freakin' clue what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I thanked MrsBertucci for her awesome beta? If not, I'm a bad, bad writer. She's great and you should all definitely read her series, Her Savior.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. Tears once more escaped her control and fell, unchecked. He—the Doctor—lifted his other hand and wiped her face, so tenderly, with so much caring, she cried harder.

“Doctor? What happened?”

“I told you,” he whispered and though it wasn’t his harsh, northern voice she heard the same notes in this newer accent. “I was dying. Didn’t want to go,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to leave you.”

He brought her hand to his face and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Rose stared. She’d—they’d been in this position so many times, with her cupping his cheek and the Doctor leaning into her. So many times in bed, them lying together, or on the couch watching telly. In the Console room, the galley, hiding from whomever chased them.

Her fingertips brushed his temple and he willingly opened for her.

“Doctor.” It was a gasp, a moan, a sob. It was hope. “Why?”

“Because you’re more precious to me than my life.” He opened his eyes and once more, the brown of them shocked Rose where she expected blue. “What do I always tell you, my Rose? I fall in love with you every day. I don’t say it because it’s sweet.”

“It is sweet.” She was openly crying now, torn between heartache and—and she didn’t know.

“You take that back.” She almost smiled at his typical comeback, the supposedly harsh words she knew belied the love he felt for her. She couldn’t make her lips form the grin, however. He brushed her tears away and kissed her forehead. “I say it because it’s true.”

“Can you change back?” she whispered, eyes roaming over his face.

“Oh.” He dropped her hand and frowned. “Do you want me to?”

The word slipped out before she realized. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” He stepped back, taking his telepathic love with him. 

“Can you?” She already knew the answer. If he needed to change because he was dying he probably couldn’t un-die.

“No.” He looked away and that hurt almost as watching him change. Almost as much as her own words. “Do you want to leave?”

“What? Leave?” She repeated, shocked. “What? Oh…um…” she trailed off, confused. The last however long seemed a lifetime and she still had no real idea what happened. “Do you—do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He said it so quickly it reassured her. “But it’s your choice. If you want to go home…”

“Home?” She repeated, quite unsure how to do anything else. “I thought I was…”

“Cancel Barcelona,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “Change to London. The Powell Estate, ah, let’s say the 24th of December.” He tried to smile or tried to reassure her or tried to do something but Rose just—she just couldn’t. Didn’t understand and didn’t know what happened and just—she was lost. “Consider it a Christmas present.”

She edged closer, trying to figure out what happened to her world.

“There,” the Doctor said and didn’t sound one ounce proud of himself. Instead he looked lost. Scared. Upset.

The TARDIS shuddered as if She objected to the change in course, humming angrily in Rose’s head. The Doctor seemed to ignore Her. 

“You’re bringing me—back? To London?” She shook her head, but the words refused to form. That wasn’t her home, he knew that. If he was her Doctor as he claimed, he had to know that. “You don’t…” the words trailed off into a throat-tightening whisper of a sob.

He met her gaze, even, cool, and yes. There it was. Her Doctor stared back at her in that uncertain look. As if he still, _still_ didn’t know how much she loved him. Or…other him…or…Rose didn’t know. Didn’t understand it herself. 

“Up to you,” he said nonchalantly. “Back to your mum. It’s all waiting. Fish and chips, sausage and mash, beans on toast.” He cut himself off then suddenly brightened. “No, Christmas! Turkey! Although, having met your mother nut loaf would be more appropriate.”

He’d said that before, too. Several humorously disparaging things about her mum. It was so familiar, so beloved, her lips quirked up. “What’d I say about making fun of Mum?”

“Was that a smile?” He ducked down and his grin widened. Not the manic, daft grin she loved, but a wide, happy smile that tugged at her heart.

“No.” Her smile widened.

“That was a smile,” he stated this time. “I know my Rose’s smile.”

“No,” she protested. Weakly. “It wasn’t.”

“You smiled.”

They were both grinning at each other now and it felt so natural, so right, Rose almost forgot she was looking at a new man. Almost forgot.

“Oh, come on, all I did was change, and only physically at that! I didn’t—” He gasped, doubled over. The TARDIS shuddered as he did.

“Doctor?” She reached for him but didn’t touch him, still not sure. “Doctor, what’s wrong?”

“I said I didn’t—” He cut himself off again, gasping and clearly in pain. She tried to touch him, sometimes her touch helped, but he stumbled backward. “Rose, no! Stay back! The regeneration’s gone wrong. I can’t—I can’t stop.”

He looked up at her, broken eyes a painful plea. Rose reached out again, had to. Needed to—to touch him, help him, do something.

“Help me. Please. My Rose.”

Before Rose could agree, or not, a warning bell rang through the TARDIS. The ship shuddered and shook and it was unlike anything Rose had felt before. Even when they chased Jack’s space junk (there was something about Jack…) or crashed onto Nivray Beta.

“Doctor! Hold on!”

“Rose!” He reached for her but she couldn’t make her fingers release the console. “Help me.”

Rose had no idea how to do that. How to help him or how to help herself. Her Doctor had left her and in his place was a manic maniac who crashed his beloved ship and had the indecency to slip into a coma.

Damn man.

********  
Rose stared down at the man. The Doctor. _The_ Doctor, she wasn’t sure if he was hers. He had regained consciousness only long enough to help her. But wasn’t that what she’d whispered to him? Pleaded with him?

_“Help me,” she’d begged._

And he had. Surely that meant he was her Doctor. Even unconscious he came to long enough to stop those killer robotic Santas.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Mickey asked.

“I did.” Rose didn’t look away from the new face.

“Rose, one minute we was opening that blasted ship of his and the next you were gone.” Mickey paused. “Do you know how long it’s been since then?”

Rose looked up, surprised. “I don’t even—” she shook her head and grimaced. “Sorry, Micks. I don’t remember a lot of what went on that day. For me it was yesterday. How long?” She only partly cared about the answer.

“Three months.”

Shocked, she blinked and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“For three months we didn’t know if you was alive or dead. Jackie nearly went spare, but she never gave up.” Mickey lowered his voice and crouched next to her where she sat in the chair by the bed. “I know you love him.”

“I love the other him.” The words cracked like broken glass around her. “I don’t know this him.” Rose swallowed hard and fought back tears. She was so tired of crying. Of not knowing. Of mourning (something about his death, about the other him dying. Absorbing the Time Vortex and—and—)

“I’m sorry, Rose.” He rested his hand on her leg and Rose finally looked at him. “Get some rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I have a feeling those killer Santas aren’t done yet. I’ll go check the estate. See if anyone’s seen them again.”

Rose nodded but already looked back at the Doctor. She gingerly took his hand.

“You feel the same,” she admitted to his unconscious form. “Even though I see your hand is different, it feels the same in mine. Our fingers fit. Always have.”

She raised his hand to her cheek and cupped it on her skin. Closing her eyes, she sighed into his touch. His fingers curled into her cheek, brushing her temple. Or maybe that was her hopeful imagination. Rose couldn’t tell anymore.

“And I feel you.” She sniffed and swallowed hard but kept her voice low and steady. “I can feel you trying to reach for my mind. As if you know I’m here but can’t quite stretch far enough. Can you feel me, too?”

She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him Doctor. Not yet. Rose closed her eyes and concentrated as her Doctor taught her. Relaxing was out of the question, but she did her best. Opening herself to him, Rose stood in their telepathic grotto, surrounded by waterfalls and bright flowers, by heavy tree overhangs and by soaring birds calling to their mates.

“Come back to me.”

Rose lowered his hand and kissed the palm. Once more his fingers curled into her touch, or she thought they did, and she swore he sighed her name. Curious, afraid, Rose bit her lip but she already moved onto the bed.

Kneeling over him, him in Howard’s pinstriped jimjams and flat on his back, her knees bracketing slim hips, she brushed her fingers over his temples.

Golden light blinded her. Melodic song drew her further in. She was on the TARDIS. They were in the console room. No, Rose was alone—not alone, only she and the TARDIS.

“Rose?” His new voice echoed over the blinding light. “Come back to me, my Rose.”

Her hands dropped. Rose sat straighter and tried to make sense of what she saw. Or felt. Or sensed. All she remembered was his voice, his new voice, calling for her.

“What the bleeding hell are you doing?”

Rose jerked, toppling over onto the other side of the bed and just barely stopping herself from falling onto the floor.

“Jesus, Mum.” She stood, heart hammering in her chest. Rose looked to the Doctor but he hadn’t so much as sighed.

“What do you think you’re doing on him like that, Rose?”

Embarrassed, Rose grabbed Jackie’s arm and dragged her out of the room and into the hall. She didn’t know why she bothered; clearly the—the Doctor couldn’t hear anything. But she didn’t want to wake him if he needed sleep and if he was—what? Faking it?

She was being ridiculous now. 

“I was trying to see if I could find him,” she hissed. “His people are telepathic and I was hoping I could—”

What? What was she hoping to do? What had she even thought she could do? Rose slumped against the wall and slid down. Head in her heads, she pressed her fingertips against her eyes, hoping to stave off all of it. Tears, worry, grief.

“I don’t know.”

Jackie sat next to her and wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She kissed the side of her head. “I know you loved him.”

Love. Loved. Love.

“Yeah.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Doctor's words to Harrier Jones's assistant: Doesn't she look tired. Recognizable dialogue from Parting of the Ways; manipulated dialogue from Waters of Mars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who said anything about canon? Did I? Well...no. There is no canon here, only angst and romance and happy endings.

Rose watched the Doctor berate Harriet Jones. She didn’t say anything, still not sure—he was the Doctor, proved himself to be despite not telling her what had happened to him. Other him. But was he really? She looked up to the sky where the spaceship once hovered. Breaking away from her mum and Mickey, she met the Doctor as he turned from Harriet and her assistant.

“I was wrong.” She swallowed against the pain in her heart. “You’re not my Doctor.”

The hurt shock in his brown eyes nearly stilled her next words, but Rose shook her head and barreled on.

“My Doctor wouldn’t have changed time like that. You said Harriet Jones wins three consecutive terms as prime minister. But you just changed that, didn’t you.”

He looked over his shoulder and she saw the residual anger there. Heart hammering so loudly she swore he heard it, Rose didn’t let _his_ anger stop her.

“My Doctor would’ve understood that he’s not the sole savior of the Earth.” Her voice cracked. “My Doctor would’ve given Harriet another chance just like he gave the Sycorax.”

The Doctor blinked. She wanted to know what he was thinking, what thoughts raced through his head, but didn’t reach for him. He didn’t say a word, so she barreled onward once more.

“Is that who you are now? Is that the type of man you are?” She threw his own words in his face and knew it. “A man who gets angry when someone stands up to him? What about me?” The last question came out so softly Rose barely heard herself.

“What about you, my Rose?”

“I stand up to you. I argue with you.” She reached out, an automatic gesture but dropped her hand before she took his. He noticed and once more hurt flashed over his face. “When I disagree with you, will you leave me? Drop me back here and take off because I didn’t fall in line?”

“No.” He grabbed her hand and she felt the truth of his vow. “Never you. I won’t do that to you, Rose.”

“But you did to Harriet.” Rose nodded her head in that direction but couldn’t tear her gaze from his. “Why?”

She bit her lip then reached up with her free hand and cupped his cheek. As always, he leaned into her touch. Even in the middle of the estate, the middle of an abandoned alley in his jimjams, he leaned into her touch. It should’ve comforted her. Almost did.

“Why are you so angry now? My Doctor—” her voice hitched. “My Doctor was loud and he talked, and he moved. Constantly, constantly moved. And angry. He was angry, but he never took it out on people, never took revenge against them because they didn’t listen.”

She swallowed and nodded. Rose remembered the Dalek and the Doctor’s fury with van Statten and, later, with Adam. But he never ruined someone’s life. He let them do it on their own, but he never purposely ruined anyone’s life or changed history—not like this.

“What happened, Doctor? What made you change?”

“Harriet Jones murdered an entire ship full of aliens who lost.” His voice hardened as did his eyes, but his hand remained gentle around hers. Rose dropped her other hand from his cheek and tried to understand. “They fled and she ordered their murder.”

“You’re not the last authority, Doctor.”

“I am.” And the way he said it sent a bolt of cold fear through her.

“No.” Her voice firmed and rose. “Only death is. You have knowledge and abilities and a brain that moves faster than anything and makes connections I could only guess at, but you’re not the final authority. You can’t be. You can’t control the sun and the moon, the day and the night. You can’t control life and death.”

Whatever she said caused an odd look to come over his face. The Doctor jerked, stumbled back, wide-eyed and suddenly terrified. One minute he looked at her so frightened, out of arm’s reach, the next he held her by the shoulders, eyes running over her face, hands over her body as if checking that she really was uninjured.

“Doctor?”

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Rose, look at me!”

Frowning, she met his gaze and waited. “What’s wrong?”

“Does your head hurt?”

An eyebrow rose. “My head? No,” she said slowly.

“Your eyes are yours, nothing extra there but my Rose.”

He was muttering to himself and though Rose understood the individual words, she didn’t understand what in blazes he was talking about. She caught his elbows and stopped him. Frustrated, scared, heartbroken, confused, she dug her fingers into his elbows.

“What are you talking about?” she ground out.

“Nothing.” He breathed a long sigh of relief. “Nothing, Rose. You’re all right.” He hugged her tight to him. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”

Rose closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Even his hugs felt the same, different body or no. “I may never understand you, Doctor.”

He pulled back and grinned, a wide, happy grin that reached his eyes and sent them dancing with warmth and love. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?”

She couldn’t help her responding smile. “Maybe.” Her smile faltered, faded. “But I still want to know why you ruined Harriet’s carrier and her life. Why you changed time like that. Who decides they’re so unimportant? You?”

He opened his mouth then closed it again.

“I don’t know what to make of this new Doctor.” Rose stepped back, though her body screamed at her to stay close to her lover. “The Doctor I love doesn’t ruin lives. He saves them. Even if they’re shitty little snots out for a pound.”

Recognition flashed in his gaze and he pressed his lips together, jaw tight. Two, rather adorable, dimples made an appearance and Rose wondered if they only showed up when he was angry or if she could make them appear other times.

Happier times. Sexier times. Assuming he still wanted her, though it seemed like he did.

“I—I—” The Doctor frowned.

Before he could say more or she could, everything went black. Or, in her case, golden.

 ********  
The Doctor easily caught Rose.

His hearts screeched to a halt then pounded in his chest as if they wanted out of his body. He dimly heard Jackie calling for her daughter and Mickey demanding to know what he’d done to Rose. Behind him, Harriet said something.

He didn’t care about any of them.

Cradling Rose to his chest, he lifted her and felt her head fall to his shoulder, press to the bare skin of his neck. Completely unresponsive, the slight telepathic connection between them at least told him she was alive. In a coma, a healing coma if he was right, but safe.

“Harriet.” The Doctor turned to face the prime minister. He didn’t necessarily think he was wrong, but on the other hand he knew Rose was right. “I’m sorry.”

Her assistant watched them warily and the Doctor strode to where the man stood. Jackie followed him, Mickey demanding answers. Answers he didn’t have.

“Forget I said anything.” He channeled every bit of telepathic influence he possessed into those words. The Doctor waited and when the same look came over the young man’s face as when the Doctor uttered _Doesn’t she look tired_ , he knew he succeeded.

What had he done? Timelines shifted around him, changing, turning, swirling around him until he didn’t know which way was up and what was down or if it even mattered. He fell to his knees.

“Doctor!” Jackie knelt beside him. “What’s going on? What happened to Rose? She isn’t going to breathe golden dust like you did, is she? Are you still sick?”

“Jackie.” He looked up at her and shook his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jackie demanded, hands on Rose’s face, on her hands. “No you don’t know, no you can’t say, no you’re still sick, no you’re not sick?”

Shifting timelines. They warped around him, turning his stomach and blocking out the rest of Jackie’s monologue.

Eternity stretched ahead of him, overlapping multiple Jackies and Mickies and Harriets, one after the other, after the other. It snapped. Jolting back into place, time slowed then sped, but finally evened out. The Doctor didn’t look at the overlapping timelines. He looked at Rose.

“Rose was right.” He looked down at the woman he loved, cradled tenderly in his arms despite his own momentary weakness. “I changed the future—I set us on a path.”

The Doctor pressed his lips to her forehead. He felt it then, the flare of their connection, the opening of their telepathic bond. Bathed in warm golden light, he tried frantically to hide what happened, what she and the TARDIS did together, behind very thick walls he hoped Rose would never be able to open.

Oh, how he hoped he succeeded.

“Here.” Mickey appeared before him and somehow took Rose from his embrace. The Doctor reluctantly let the other man take her. And instantly regretted it, wanted her back in his arms. “I’ve got her, Boss.”

Jackie, incongruously, helped him stand. “Rose?” she asked, voice nervous and cracking. “She’s all right? What happened to her, Doctor?”

“She’s all right.” It was only a partial lie. Well, a lie of omission, he supposed, since the Doctor didn’t know for sure what caused Rose to slip into a healing coma. “Just needs a bit of sleep. She—”

The Doctor didn’t want to tell anyone what Rose had done to the— _with the_ —TARDIS. Not to save him, he wasn’t worth it and suspected everyone here, well everyone here and conscious, knew that.

“Let’s get back.” The Doctor looked behind him where Harriet Jones watched him suspiciously but her aide simply chatted away about how honored he was to have met the Doctor.

Poor deluded man. Meeting him wasn’t an honor. Harriet didn’t think knowing him was an honor, not with the way she looked at him. And Jackie, worried about Rose as she followed Mickey, knew it wasn’t an honor to know him. 

Look what he’d done—almost done.

Harriet’s order to execute the Sycorax made him furious, but Rose was right. That didn’t warrant him ruining her life: The Architect of Britain’s Golden Age. More importantly, he changed time. He felt it as clearly as he knew what he had to do to save Rose.

The repercussions of his six little words could have been detrimental, brought about Reapers. Or worse, the end of time. Is that the man he’d become?

And all because he was angry Rose didn’t instantly accept him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences of regeneration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. This is it, the final chapter. I hope you enjoy!

The Doctor brushed his fingertips over Rose’s arm. Slowly down, fingers barely touching her skin, so tempted to hold her hand and remind himself how right it felt, then up again to her shoulder, the side of her neck. He brushed her hair off her cheek, behind her ear, but never, not once, did he touch her temple. He didn’t give into the lure of that desire and telepathically connect with her.

More like fear—he didn’t give into the fear of telepathically connecting with her.

He didn’t know what he’d find if he did. There were entirely too many unknowns for him to confidently merge their minds again. If unknowns equaled _terror_ and terror equaled _wondering what the hell happened to his beloved Rose_.

Jackie’s Christmas Day preparations had been subdued. The Doctor smelled Christmas turkey and remembered promising Rose just that—Christmas dinner with her mum. _(Although, having met your mother nut loaf would be more appropriate.)_ Mickey had gone round the estate to check that no more robotic Santas lurked in the corners, but the Doctor was fairly certain he’d taken care of them.

He’d taken care of a damn lot, hadn’t he.

Rose lay on her old bed in Jackie’s flat, breathing evenly—no damage, no reason for her to be in a healing coma. Yet that’s exactly what this was, a healing coma.

“Please wake up,” he pleaded.

Lying on the bed next to her, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Finally he gave into temptation and took her hand in his. The Doctor just barely resisted curling his body around hers, holding her close. Protecting her. Keeping her safe.

“Please come back to me.”

“How is she?” Jackie’s quiet question jolted him, and the Doctor whipped his head around. He only glanced at her, however, before returning his gaze to his Rose.

“She’s alive, Jackie, I promise you. And she’s fine. She’s just—what she did with the TARDIS, it took a lot out of her.”

Jackie didn’t respond, but he felt the weight of her gaze on him. It burned through him as clearly as Rose’s when she was angry with him. He heard her move, startled when she rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Go change. You look ridiculous in Howard’s pajamas.”

The Doctor frowned at her, but she didn’t look at him. Jackie watched Rose, as if afraid she’d disappear if she didn’t.

“All right. I won’t be long.”

Jackie nodded, and he retreated out of the flat to the TARDIS. He needed to move Her, too, closer to the flat but not inside—or maybe inside. Closer to Rose. He didn’t know. Opening the door, he slipped inside and felt the warm, welcoming hum of his oldest friend.

“What did you and Rose do, Old Girl?” he asked the Time Rotor.

She only hummed in return, offering no answers. Leaning against the door, he banged his head on the wood and rubbed both hands down his face. Exhaustion tugged heavily at his arms and the Doctor knew his own healing hadn’t been completed.

He still didn’t know exactly what had happened in his regeneration, what went wrong, but then none of his regenerations had ever been easy. Probably a result of being off-Gallifrey when they happened. Or killed instead of just in a worn-out body.

Yeah, probably the latter.

It took far too long for him to choose a new look, a signature outfit, but when he finally saw the brown pinstriped suit, he knew it was for him. This him. For this him and _Rose_. (The way his trousers hugged his arse did not escape him and the Doctor hoped it wouldn’t escape Rose’s notice, either.)

Piloting the TARDIS to Jackie’s flat, he tucked Her in a corner of Rose’s old bedroom and stepped out. Rose still lay on her bed, exactly as he left her. Jackie sat beside her, holding her hand.

“How is she?” the Doctor asked though he knew Rose hadn’t woken.

He’d have felt it if she had.

“Is she going to wake up, Doctor?” Jackie tore her gaze from Rose and looked at him. Her eyes, teary and broken, pinned him to the spot. “Is this like you? Should I make her tea? Or is this—is Rose—”

“No.” He crossed the room in two strides. “Jackie, I promise you, Rose _will_ wake up.” The Doctor knelt in front of Jackie and took her hands. “She’s in a healing coma, like me earlier, yes. But—” but she shouldn’t be, human and all. He didn’t say that. “Rose flew the TARDIS back to me,” he settled on. “No one’s meant to do that, not like she did.”

“She was so determined to rescue you,” Jackie whispered.

Rescue…?

The Doctor lifted Rose’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “She did. In more ways than one.”

“She loves you, ya know.” He looked up at Jackie, startled at the vehemence in her voice. “Refused to stay here where it’s safe, insisted she had to get back to ya.” Jackie shook her head. “What have you done to my daughter, Doctor?”

“I showed her the universe,” he whispered. “She showed me the stars.”

“What?”

The Doctor shook his head. It felt odd, the way his head moved on his neck, the way his body felt kneeling at Rose’s bedside. Unusual, but he’d get used to it. He would, with Rose’s help. Pressing the palm of her hand to his cheek, he willed her to wake.

_Wake up, darling. Please, my Rose._

“I didn’t do anything to Rose, Jackie. I took her traveling, that’s all. Rose is the one who showed me a better life. She showed me compassion and love, forgiveness and mercy.”

“Blimey, the pair of ya. Sound alike you do.”

“If that means I sound like Rose, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jackie sighed and stood. She rested her hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “I’m going to make tea.”

“I’ll stay with her, Jackie. Promise.”

“I know you will, ya plum.”

He didn’t watch her leave, but knelt there, at the bed, holding Rose’s hand. The Doctor whispered Gallifreyan words of longing to her, even if he and the TARDIS were the only ones to understand them. He promised he’d be better. Do better. With her beside him.

The front door opened and Mickey called out. “Look who I found, wandering around outside.”

Rose opened her eyes and gasped.

The Doctor felt the bend and twist of a fixed point pushing through the flat, shoving timelines out of his wake.

“Doctor,” Rose whispered and he stared at Rose, her golden eyes, her ethereal, layered voice.

“Hey, Doc.” He didn’t look from his love to the new-old-familiar voice, couldn’t bring himself to look away from Rose and certainly had no desire to even glimpse the time-monstrosity that was behind him.

“How are you feeling?” the Doctor asked Rose, firmly keeping his back to the door.

“I—you’re alive.” She hugged him, but he felt her tremble, shake with tears and knew the mental blocks he’d tried to place around Rose’s memories weren’t enough. Her memories broke through (sang through) and he knew she remembered. “I thought—but no.” She shook her head and pulled back, kissing him softly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The Doctor brushed his thumbs beneath her eyes, catching her tears. “Please don’t cry for me, Rose. Please don’t ever cry.”

“I killed you.” The broken words of grief lay between them, but he shook them away.

“You didn’t. I willingly gave my life for yours. Always have. Always will.” He smiled, a gentle, loving gesture, and pressed his lips to hers. “You’re far more important to me than anything. Don’t you know that?”

Rose shook her head, still crying, but allowed him to hold her close, shift on the bed beside her and just…hold her.

He heard Mickey leave, still trying to find a shop open on Christmas Day to repair Jackie’s hallway from the damage the killer Christmas tree did to the walls. He heard Jackie’s cry of joy when she entered the room. She brought in the tea, as promised, and pressed a kiss to the top of Rose’s head.

Without looking, Rose reached out and took Jackie’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Thank you, Mum. For everything. Thank you.”

“I’ll be outside the room.” Jackie gave him a hard look. “Don’t be long.” She closed the door behind her, leaving the two lovers in a silent embrace.

“What do you remember?” He pulled back, brushing the hair off her cheeks.

Rose looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Everything. You couldn’t hide it from me—us.” She frowned and tilted her head. “I’m not sure how that works, actually.”

“I didn’t want you to burn,” he admitted, words fierce and honest. “God, Rose, you terrified me, standing there. All powerful. I was so afraid.” He pressed his lips to hers. His own tears barely held in check, he breathed deeply, inhaling Rose and love, and held her close once again. “I was scared, so scared you were going to—” he couldn’t say the word.

“Never, my Doctor.” Her hands framed his face, fingertips brushing his temples.

He sighed into her touch and opened his mind to hers. Taking her by her telepathic hand, the Doctor guided them into their telepathic grotto, surrounded by waterfalls and bright flowers, by heavy tree overhangs and by soaring birds calling to their mates.

“It looks the same.” Rose turned in a tight circle, looking around their private space with the same wonder and awe she first looked around it.

“Did you think it’d change?”

“Well, I thought—since you did.” She turned back to him but didn’t retake his hand. “I thought it might.”

“No. Never. I’m still your Doctor.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you? What you did to Harriet—”

“No.” He rushed to touch her, reassure her. “Rose, you were right. I changed—I changed everything. Remember when we landed on Satellite Five?” He waited only long enough for her nod. “Remember how I said the history was wrong?” Again he waited for her to nod. “That’s because it was. It was me.”

All his breath rushed out of him, and the Doctor closed his eyes against the judgement in Rose’s. But she took his hand and he felt the warm tendrils of her telepathic presence. When he opened his eyes, he saw patience.

“You said it was supposed to be the Great and Bountiful Earth Empire or something.”

“It was. Is. Will be. The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.” He frowned. “Harriet Jones will serve out her three consecutive terms as prime minister.”

“I don’t understand, by deposing Harriet, you changed history all the way to the year 200,000?” Rose stopped and when she spoke, the Doctor knew what she was going to say. “No, more than that.” She met his gaze again. “That led to the Daleks.”

Her voice cracked but she didn’t stop. “Getting rid of the jagged fess—” he didn’t correct her, found her mispronunciation endearing as always—“opened the door to the—to _them_. Or were they always already there, waiting in the dark space, and when the jagged fess exploded, they just stepped up their game?”

“I don’t know.” He brushed her cheek, tucked wisps of hair behind her ear, anything to keep touching her. “I don’t know if we’ll ever know. Just because we remember it doesn’t mean it happened, not any more. I supposed we could hop over to the year 200,000, or even 200,100, but it wouldn’t matter.”

“Because you made things right with Harriet?” she demanded.

“I did. She’s still Prime Minister Harriet Jones, and will be for a long time to come.”

“What about the Daleks? They still broke free from the Time Lock, what happened to them?” She frowned. “Or will happen…or…how does that work?”

The Doctor opened his mouth to explain the intricacies of Gallifreyan tenses but she glared at him as if she knew that was his intention. Instead he cleared his throat. “It happened, but with the changes to the timeline—or the fixes, I’m not sure—I don’t know if it _will_ happen.”

“Can we stop it? If it does happen again, can we stop it?”

He wanted to sound confident, assured in this new body as the new Doctor. But they were in their special, private telepathic haven. No lying allowed. “I don’t know. But I promise you, we’ll try.”

“Good.” Rose smiled and leaned against him. “That’s all we can do, yeah? Try our best.”

He felt her tiredness, and ran his hand down her back. Jackie would barge in any minute now, and they still had to deal with the Time Displacement.

“Why didn’t you tell me about regeneration?”

“I didn’t think it’d ever come up,” he admitted and kissed her forehead. “I’d been in that body such a short time, even for me.”

There was commotion outside the door and Rose looked up. Their grotto disappeared and her old bedroom reasserted itself. Her eyes met his, sad and watery, and the Doctor knew she’d have more to say on the matter. Then Rose stilled. She stared at the closed bedroom door, eyes distant.

_“I bring life.”_

“Rose.” She scrambled from his arms even as he tried to hold onto her. “Rose, wait!”

But it was too late, and she ripped open the door and raced down the hall. The Doctor scowled but followed, unable not to no matter what awaited him.

 ********  
The Doctor was right, of course. Rose was furious with him for deserting Jack on Satellite Five or the Game Station or whatever it was currently called in this new timeline. She was more furious with herself for bringing Jack back—forever. At least she allowed him to comfort her as she cried, Jackie on the other side of her, Mickey and Jack watching.

Rose turned and pounded him with her fists. “How could you? How could you leave him?”

The Doctor didn’t want to do this here, didn’t want to tell her loved ones what happened. Hell, he didn’t want to tell _Rose_ what happened—all that happened to her, the TARDIS, even to his old body. But he caught her wrists and waited until she looked at him.

“Rose, you were dying. _I_ was dying.” Desperate, terrified for her, the Doctor tried to control his voice but it shook with his fear no matter his efforts. “You opened the Heart of the TARDIS to fly Her back and absorbed the entirety of the Time Vortex. No one’s meant to do that.”

“And I brought Jack back.” She looked at the other man, sitting in Jackie’s worn armchair, elbows on his knees, looking as if he wished he hadn’t brought the subject up at all. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

In a blink, Jack knelt before her. “I know, sweetheart.” He took her hands and kissed the backs of each. “I know. Don’t—don’t give it another thought. You’re still worth dying for.” Jack gave her a lopsided grin and Rose laughed on a sob. “Even if it’s not a permanent death. I’d still die for you.” 

Rose wrapped Jack in a tight hug and the Doctor honestly tried not to be jealous. He had no reason to be, after all, but everything oscillated from one extreme to the next—no. No he had no reason for jealousy and tamped down on it. After a minute, Rose pulled back and looked between Jack and the Doctor.

She swiped the heels of her hand beneath her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t understand how you remember that timeline.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Doctor said it was an aborted timeline now, that history—or the future—changed.”

Jack shrugged and sat back in the armchair. “I remember being in that hallway, surrounded by Dalek dust.” They all shuddered but Jack immediately pushed on. “I heard the TARDIS leave and jumped back here to find you.”

He looked pointedly at the Doctor, who masterfully ignored him. Rose looked between them but didn’t comment; the Doctor wasn’t thick enough to think that meant she dropped the subject.

“Roamed around for a few decades, then when LONGBOW was founded as part of the League of Nations, I joined them. When it changed to UNIT, I stayed on.”

The Doctor perked up. “UNIT? Really? But I worked for them!”

“I know.” Jack smirked and winked. “But that was here, with the Brigadier. I stayed in Genova, out of sight, off the books.”

“You—” the Doctor spluttered.

“I don’t understand,” Mickey said. “You mean you was already back here when the Slitheen crashed into Big Ben? And what about when we all met in Cardiff?”

Jack’s smile didn’t lessen, but the Doctor recognized the pain of living so long—alone—in the other man’s eyes. “Had to preserve the timelines,” Jack said with another wink, this time at Mickey who rolled his eyes.

Preserve timelines…there was something about that line that niggled at the back of the Doctor’s mind. But he let it go when Rose leaned tiredly into him. She still held Jackie’s hand, or Jackie held hers, but Rose leaned on him for comfort.

“Well,” Jackie said in the silent aftermath. “Who’s ready for Christmas dinner?”

 ********  
Later that night, after Mickey and Jack patched up the hallway and after reassuring her mum she was fine, honestly, and after kissing Mickey good night, and after promising Jack they’d never desert him again, Rose walked into the living room and looked at the Doctor.

Her Doctor.

Wow, it’d been a crazy couple of, well, a crazy day. Two if she counted yesterday’s break-open-the-Heart-of-the-TARDIS-and-rescue-the-Doctor madness. Her chest tightened at the memory. At the love she remembered literally flowing from her Doctor to her as he kissed her, taking both the Vortex and the cellular decay from her into him.

Rose might one day ask how he did that with a simple kiss, but that day was not today.

Today was for new beginnings. Maybe there was a reason Christmas fell at the end of the year. So Humans remembered the joy and love and _hope_ for the new year. Hope. Yes, she quite liked hope.

He was so different than her Doctor…her first Doctor. Just different, Rose thought with a grin. Not good different or bad different, just different. And she was looking forward to cataloging all the differences.

Even the mole. Especially the mole.

“Thank you.”

He jerked his head up, sexy specs—seriously he needed to wear those all the time!—slipping down his nose with the movement. The telly replayed Harriet’s earlier press conference about the defeat of the Sycorax with the help of UNIT and how humanity’s first defense ought to always be diplomacy not violence. As far as Rose could see, she hadn’t resigned, hadn’t been forced to resign, and the world—or at least Britain—continued onward.

“Why are you thanking me?” he asked, voice low. But he held out his hand and Rose eagerly took it.

He pulled her onto his lap and she let out a startled laugh at the sudden move. Content to be in her Doctor’s arms, she wrapped her around his neck. “This is new.”

“New, new Doctor.” He waggled his eyebrows in a truly ridiculous display and she laughed again. “ _Your_ new, new Doctor.”

“Yeah.” Rose ran a finger down his sideburn, cataloging the differences between her new Doctor and her…she swallowed tears. “I killed you.”

“No. No, my Rose, never.” His fingers tightened on her hips and he looked so serious, so earnest, she had to believe him. “I told you— _I fall in love with you every day_. They aren’t just pretty words, they’re true. Every day I look at you and see your wonder in the universe. Every day I see your love for me, despite what I’ve done. Every day I fall in love with you a little more. That’ll never change.”

“Even if you did?” She swallowed and licked her lips. “Do?”

“Even if,” he vowed. “Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. How much I love you.”

Rose rested her head on his shoulder and looked out the window. They hadn’t pulled the curtains closed after everything, and with telly the only light in the room, she could see the falling ash from the spaceship.

Rose took his hand and examined it. She held it up, comparing it to his other one. To the other him’s hands. She tried not to think about that. He felt so much like her Doctor. _Her Doctor._ “I can’t believe he cut off your hand and you grew a new one!” Rose grinned at him. “Still full of surprises, Doctor.”

“Still your Doctor, then, eh?” He grinned, but already she saw the difference between his happy grin and the _I’m smiling to fool you grin_. Same Doctor, all right.

“Yeah.” She kissed him softly, holding his hands, both of them, tight in hers. “Yeah you are. Forever.”

Leaning back against him, she closed her eyes. “So, where're we going to go first?”

Rose felt him move, and even though they were inside, even though even he shouldn’t be able to see the stars through council estate concrete and paint, he pointed. “Er, that way. No, hold on.” He moved just slightly. “That way.”

Rose looked up, but of course she couldn’t see through concrete and paint. “That way?” 

He grinned down at her. “Hmm?”

She smiled back and kissed him, letting her love and hope for the future pour into the kiss. Opening herself fully to their bond and to him. Slowly she pulled back, fingers caressing the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, that way.”

Her Doctor smiled back at her. “Fantastic.”


End file.
